


All That Glitters

by Nightly_Ink



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, also patton is a necromancer but only by default, he's only in it because it and healing magic are basically the same, logan is the royal advisor, roman is the prince what else is new, virgil is a demon but he's trying his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightly_Ink/pseuds/Nightly_Ink
Summary: Patton is soon arrested after practicing the art of healing...Through a series of missteps, healer Patton is soon introduced to Logan, the new royal advisor, and Roman, the young prince destined to one day slay the Mother of Magic, the Dragon Witch herself. Virgil is less than pleased with this development, but he has very little say.





	1. Shackles Break, As Do I

Logan glances down, carefully adjusting his robe - the thick fabric is free of dust, stains, or wrinkles, as it should be. Regardless, he straightens it, and brushes meticulously at the folds before pushing his spectacles back up the ridge of his nose. He almost feels like His Highness, with how much primping and preening he’s put himself through. However, it’s necessary. After all, he reasons as he stares at the heavy slab of the wooden door separating him and the mage’s door, appearance is everything when it comes to intimidation...and Logan knows exactly how it is he wants to come across.

He’s the youngest Royal Advisor to ever wear the title - which is splendid as it’s something he has practically been bred for...but the youth never serves him well when older, pushier Dukes and Lords spare him either looks of disinterest or disdain: they take one look at his smooth skin and suddenly the weight of his input becomes feather-light. However, he’s watched some of the more cunning among them, and adopted the sharp, piercing looks that stops others short, and honed them. If he holds his chin high and dresses in long, sweeping clothes that emphasize his height in tandem with a tapered glare, he’s practically invincible. He likes to think of himself like the raven’s that will perch outside his study - intelligent and commanding.

By the time Logan’s built himself up, he’s a bird of prey gliding into the interrogation chamber - and he feels it: he owns everything about the space. Its his shoes that fill the room’s silence, it’s his flared robe that trails behind him like a mark of territory, and he makes sure that he doesn’t even spare the other a single glance until he’s situated on the grandiose chair that’s been selected to dwarf the one offered to prisoners.

However, when he sets eyes on the mage before him, a part of him falters.

For a turncoat, traitorous creature willing to risk the sanctity of his Kingdom’s security....he’s awfully small. And scared. He barely fits into the shackles that seem to practically weld his hands to the table. The chair  - made to be uncomfortably small - seems to be just the right size for him...if not a tad big. As for the boy himself - he’s just a kid. Well, truly, he looks about Logan’s age - but he _looks_ young. Red-rimmed, too-wide eyes follow slowly raise to Logan’s, and the other reminds himself to keep his expression impassive.

He’s proud to say he’s successful.

“Patton Clarke,” Logan addresses him evenly, and the boy before him shifts, baby blues roaming down before he nods slowly, “You are being charged by the Crown for high insurrection as practitioner of necromancy.”

A nod, a quiet, “Yes’sir.”

“It is reported that you have been offering healing services that include magic - which has outlawed since His Late Highness's passing more than five decades ago. You were aware of the ordinance, yes?”

A small wet bead falls onto the table, and the blonde nods again. Logan is about to continue to his next question, when the other clears his throat.

“P-Please, please,” the boy started before Logan was able to instate a line of questioning, “Th-There were....So many, _oh gods_ \-- so _many_ ,” the youth of the boy became clear when a fat tear was childishly done away with by the heel of his hand. It smeared caked dirt across his skin, and the shackles fell back down with a metal thud.

“So many?” the advisor prompted, suspicions to the meaning confirmed when the blonde’s eyes leak again, and he glances away.

 _“Dead._ Th-there was e-enough,” his voice wavers, glancing up at him, “Right? Wasn’t it enough?”

A strange scorch of sympathy started burning in his chest, but Logan kept his expression schooled, “I am merely human - I do not make those decisions,” he clipped before eyeing the healer, “and neither, frankly, should you. Should _anyone_. Which is why to do so is forbidden - do you understand?”

He’s trembling now, Patton, shoulders shaking with what Logan originally presumes is fear - he is quick to change his mind, however, at seeing the flush rising in the boy’s cheeks, highlights freckles previously unseen.

" _You_ don’t understand,” Patton accuses, voice pulled tight and thin, “what it’s like to-to hold someone, to _watch_ them-”

“Do _not_ presume what I do and do not know,” Logan warns sharply before catching himself, and the boy looks down and away again, uncertain to still be angry or apologize. Patton makes up his mind soon enough.

“And if you could have saved them?” Patton asks, almost pleading “Wouldn’t you have? If only so you didn’t have to do it _again?_ And again, and _again_?” and the tears are back, sniffling punctuating the last word with a morose sob.

Logan sighs. Internally and externally, he’d come in ready for an interrogation, but the longer he spoke with this...this _child_ , the harder that mindset is to maintain, “I see,” he hums, pinching the bridge of his nose, “So would I have plunged my soul into the nether of the dark arts to whisk a departed soul into a vacated corpse, trapping them here on Earth until I found it within my graces to release them?”

Patton looks lost, and small, but also hurt, almost like Logan’s words have damaged him more that thick cuffs and manhandling ever could have, “...You wouldn’t have even _tried_?”

Logan stares at the man in front of him: sniveling and small as he questions _Logan’s_ actions whilst chained to a chair for an act of magic - outlawed to protect the kingdom, and the worming sense of pity abruptly vanishes. He draws his shoulder straight to where his form towers, where his eyes are sharp and suddenly he’s once again a predator.

A part of him he’s not proud of takes delight in the way Patton shrinks at the display, as if just now realizing his words are so far out of the treeline that Logan will catch him in the clearing like talons to a vole.

 “Emotions like the ones you describe are selfish and _fleeting_ , two things _my_ King’s throne is not. Including their law - which I represent. So now,” Logan gets to his feet and leans forward over the table; Patton leans impossibly farther back into his own chair, burying himself in hunched shoulders, “you are left with very few options. Most, if not all, of them end in your death. None of them leave you unscathed-”

In a single instant, Logan goes from hunched over Patton to trying to push himself off the ground, hands scrambling for purchase in a confused - but altogether _livid_ \- attempt to dislodge the sudden presence that was digging its bony knees into his shoulders. Curved, claw-like hands appear almost as abruptly, wrapping around the flared collar of the advisor’s robe, purposefully close to his neck.

 “ _T_ _ouch him_ ,” a voice purrs close to his ear, and Logan’s eyes fly open to meet a - a _demon’s_ blazing purple ones, “And I’ll remove the concept of _unscathed_ from your understanding,” it’s grinning, fangs glinting - up until a panicked, stumbling “ _N-No!”_ rips itself from Patton’s throat.

  
“ _D-Desino!_ ” and Logan blinks with surprise, gaze snapping to Patton, who has impressively gone from quaking in his seat to firmly scolding demon spawn like nothing more than a misbehaved pet. Even more surprising is that the demon  _obeys_. With a hiss that rattles into something of a growl, it releases him.

 Before it can change its mind, Logan pushes it off, shoving himself out from under its weight - it startles back, and Logan is able to take in it’s appearance once he’s up and on his feet, leaning against the back of his chair for support as his chest moves erratically in beat with pulsing heart.

 It looks almost human, the demon: pale, barely taller than the healer with mussed brown hair - but its eyes are reminiscent of a snake’s (save for dark rings that ghost beneath them from sleepless nights), and a slew of demonic Runes that seem inked into hits neck. It watches him right back, showing off a set of ridged teeth as it scowls from its place on the table between Logan and Patton, crouched with its hands resting on its thighs.

 All is still in the room. In a span of seconds, all three simply stare at one another - more specifically, Patton and Logan take turns glancing between themselves and the demon, while the creature pays undivided attention to Logan. The advisor’s as unsure as his mouth is dry, and he hates the sudden shift of power.

 “A demon-” Logan murmurs, a mixture of awe, repulsion, and fear, and the thing _smirks_ at him as his head shakes slowly - Logan isn’t a religious man by far, but he finds multiple memorized prayers running through his mind, “a spawn of the Dragon Witch,” he adds, and the smirk fades.

 “I know you're my Magister,” the demon’s voice is somehow both smooth and raspy as he stares at Logan, “but he’s better off dead. Let me. You’ll be safer.”

 Logan’s eyes widen, and shoot to Patton, who looks horrified by the suggestion, “ _Virgil!”_

 For a moment it looks like it can feel guilt. Like it can _feel_ . The sight turns the advisor’s stomach, and he steps backward , everything falling into place with a dreadful amount of sense when he notices a glowing _Demonic_ symbol bright, previously unseen mark glowing on Patton’s hand. A matching one is on the demon’s.

 “It’s _bound_ to you. You - you’re _hosting_ it!”

 “ _He_ , actually,” the demon points out, “but I appreciate the tact.”

 Logan pays him no mind, and Patton nods slowly before his lip curls uncertainty.

 “Yes’sir,” the healer admits, bowing his head, “The symbol on my hand - it’s Virgil’s name, Sir, his Divine name.”

 " _D_ _ivine?”_ Logan practically hisses, “Nothing about that creature is such a thing!”

 Patton’s eyes become unexpectedly serious - developed a sudden sort of sternness that briefly took the advisor off-guard, “Everything has a name, Sir - a real name. It’s - it’s _Divine_ ,” Patton stresses  with a special kind of reverence that Logan supposes is appropriate for a mage to magic.

 It serves only to pull at the fraying fibers of Logan’s patience, and his shoulders tense, glancing back at the demon ( _Virgil_ , he calls it)  and then Patton - what a mess of an interrogation. He swallowed, reigning himself back in - he was the one in control. Not this - this _dissident_ and his pet hellspawn.

 “Banish it,” Logan orders, “ _Now._ You summoned it _here_ \- a hand of the Witch in His _Majesty's_ Keep. This is beyond insurrection - this is _treachery_ \- this is-”

 “I don’t serve her!” ‘Virgil’ hisses, interrupting Logan and moving to leap off the table, inches away from Logan’s face and jabbing a pronged against the taller’s chest, “You hold your tongue-”

 “ _Desino!_ ” Patton says again, and Virgil flinches even as Patton shoots him a sympathetic look before turning back to Logan, “...Try to be a bit sensitive about her,” the healer _chides_ Logan, “But....he’s right. He doesn’t serve her anymore. Can't. He’s mine,” Patton doesn’t say the last part happily...though it doesn’t sound like he’s entirely remorseful, more like he regrets having to claim a sentient thing as his own, “...He can’t disobey his Host.”

 Logan hates to admit this matches to what he knows of magic - generally summoned beings are bound to a Host via an ancient script that comes naturally to most Mages, as if born with the knowledge on their tongue. Presumably, this language is what Patton’s called the ‘Divine’ name - and if that’s the case, then the claim on Patton’s hand is the demon’s. There isn’t much on the subject for him to reference, however, because-

 “Only the Witch can summon,” Logan accuses, and Patton’s eyes widen, head shaking before he pauses, a wince.

 “Well yes. I’m not powerful enough to summon something on my own,” Patton admits, shuffling against his shackles, “...but I didn’t summon Virgil. I, um... _adopted_ him,” the healer says after a moment, selecting the word carefully.

 “Saved,” Virgil butts in, and for once Logan isn’t entirely annoyed by the thing’s words, but only because he wants all the information at his disposal. Patton flushes a bit at that.

 “I dunno about that - I just..” Patton points to the Runes around Vigil’s neck, which Logan notes for the first time aren’t glowing like the symbol on his and Patton’s hands are, “Those were his old Claim. When I healed him...it just sort of happened.”

 Logan glances at the demon, who looks down. Logan suspects he knows more about it than Patton seems to, but before he can ask about it, the door opens - and Roman is standing in the doorway, guards absent.

 “H-Highness!” Logan stutters, viscerally ashamed at the state the Prince has walked in on - but Roman hardly looks upset...in fact, he looks positively giddy, dauntless as he closes the door behind him - the room is a little cramped at this point, but Roman doesn’t seem to mind. He does step between Logan and the demon, a protective gesture made clear by the sword at his side...but he doesn’t seem to be brandishing it. He’s smiling in the way that he wears right before he suggests something Logan won’t like.

 “Highness,” Logan begins, but Roman holds up a hand, eyes instead focused on the two prisoners.

 “I was eavesdropping,” Roman says shamelessly, “Have you told anyone else about this...about your-” the prince waves a hand in Virgil’s direction, and the healer - who is wide-eyed and mute - just shakes his head while the demon glowers.

 “Excellent!” Roman cheers brightly, “Then I am willing to offer full pardon.”

 “Highness!” Logan gasps, feeling like a broken record, and his Prince holds up a finger.

“On the condition you help me slay the Witch.”

 


	2. Into the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm not a pro, but I also don't want to Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way my way through outfits sooo here's some fanart I made: https://ibb.co/bm477Xg
> 
> Also, I just wanted to say thank you for the support I've gotten so far. It's been a few years since I've written for a fandom, so uh...yeah thanks! I'm bad at this but just know I didn't think this would get any attention and now that it is I feel kind of sappy. Anyway, stay frosty. That was stupid. Why did I say that?

Roman flicks a look over his shoulder, abundantly pleased with the sight of the castle shrinking into the distance as he drags his gaze from the castle to the two horses trailing him - the farthest in the back is Logan, and though his eyes are trained and focused, globes of blue are frozen on the horse belonging to the healer, and his - well, Logan calls him a demon, but Roman can’t bring himself to call the dark-haired boy sitting behind Patton a ‘pet’. Even if he does watch over Patton like a guard dog, glaring at anyone who stares too long...and at the moment, it’s Roman, the prince realizes belatedly.

  
Offering a smile that the amethyst eyes don’t react to, Roman allows his horse (a gleaming white creature ripped straight from fantasy) to slow, and then turn toward them all now that they’re approaching the Kingdom’s edge - maked by the thick of forest brush.

  
The other two come to rest before him, Logan eyeing the dense foliage now that he’s apparently identified it as a larger threat than of Patton turning tail...or sicking his Summon on either the prince or himself. Roman almost wants to tell him to lighten up, but he knows that Logan hardly wants to be there as is, and goes for a rare display of diplomacy by instead addressing the healer.  
“Patton,” he starts warmly, gesturing toward the entry of towering trees, and Patton blinks, ripping his gaze from the treeline in a way that reminds the prince of Logan tearing his eyes from a particularly interesting report, “See something?” Roman asks.

  
Virgil offers a slitted stare, but Patton just shakes his head, a reassuring smile worming its way onto his face, “O-Oh, no. Just um - there’s just...I can’t explain it. It feels like magic,” he offers a weak gesture in the direction of woods, and Logan raises an unimpressed brow.

  
“I don’t feel anything.”

  
“Alert the town crier,” VIrgil mumbles from behind Patton, and Logan shoots him a glare.

  
“What Virgil means to say, is that - um. I think it’s because I have magic in my blood. I’m kind of...sensitive to this stuff,” Patton placates, and Logan’s gaze doesn’t soften...but he does offer a slow nod.  
Seemingly untouched by the narrowly-avoided tension, Roman beams, glancing behind him, “Brilliant! I think I feel it to! The adventure just beyond our grasp!” he asserts, tugging his reigns in such a fashion his horse begins to head back toward the forest.

  
“Highness, proceed with caution,” Logan warns, looking both surprised and relieved when Roman turns, stopping for a mere moment to listen, “These woods were used when the Witch fled...she cursed them to protect any to follow..”

  
“Yes, _decades_ ago,” Roman scoffs, and Logan is about to correct him, when Patton surprisingly does his job for him.

  
“We should still be a _little_ careful,” the blonde offers sheepishly, “You’d be fine not to worry if it was me who cast it, but...um…”

  
Virgil rolls his eyes, peeking a head up from behind Patton’s shoulder, “He’s saying that you guys have no idea what you’re messing with - except maybe Glasses over there,” he gestures toward Logan with a sideways dip of his head, “At least he’s smart enough to know hexes should be taken seriously,” the demon huffs, and Patton offers a shaky grin, as if expecting Roman to take the derision as seriously as Logan’s horrified expression would lead him to believe.

However, Roman’s eyebrows arch in surprise...and his smile brightens, “So you’re saying the curse is still in place?”

  
Virgil shoots Patton a confused look, as if asking if he’s hallucinating the thrill in the prince’s tone - but the healer is just as baffled...leaving Logan to sigh as he catches sight of the shared look, noy surprised by any of it.

  
“Yes, your Highness. In spades,” the advisor answers, pushing his glasses in exasperation.

  
“Oh, thank Heavens!” Roman practically sags with relief, “And here I was worrying this trip would be a bit too easy. A regular forest is well and good, but what intrigue does that offer me when I retell this story to my father?”

  
“It could serve to help His Majesty understand why I agreed to guide his son on a perilous journey instead of serve the Crown to its safety,” Logan offers, “but perish the thought.”

   
“Happily, and with extreme prejudice,” Roman responds, grinning, before giving Patton a uniquely considering look...one he continues even when Virgil gives him a warning glare.

  
“Patton,” he addresses, and the healer nods dutifully, “You can sense magic?”

  
Patton raises his hand in a shaking so-so motion, “More or less-”

  
“Splendid,” he turns toward Logan, “Happy? He can simply direct us away from danger if you want to do things the boring way.”

  
“The safe way is preferred,” Logan grumps, but doesn’t object as Roman smiles like he always does when he’s getting his way and resumes his trot toward the forest.

  
Patton gives his reigns a gentle tug to follow, but is stopped as Logan comes to ride next to him, “...Define ‘more or less’, if you would,” he all but commands, and Patton feels Virgil’s shoulders hunch defensively.

  
“Um…” Patton hums, trying to think of a way to phrase it before his eyes brighten, “You’ve been near a bonfire?”

  
Logan looks faintly surprised by the question, but nods.

  
“It’s kind of like that.”  
“...Magic being the fire?” Logan guesses, and the healer nods as they trot into the wood, only a few feet behind Roman.

  
“Right. Everything has magic in it, here - lots of little fires,” he attempts to explain, even though the advisor looks a tad nonplussed at the revelation, so Patton pushes past it, “The closer you get to a fire, the warmer it gets…So, if something gets close to us, I should be able to sense it - but it’s a little disorienting since there’s so much around here,” Patton admits, glancing around the seemingly normal trees, grass, and fallen brush.

“...If there’s such interference, perhaps...discarding some unnecessary obstructions,” he suggests, looking pointedly at Virgil, who offers a set of bared fangs in response.

If Patton notices, he doesn’t comment on it, “No need - Virgil’s...my fire. I mean...people are warm, right? But you don’t notice it too much when you’re in the same room with them. Not like fire,” he explains before glancing meaningfully, “He’s fine.”

The advisor doesn’t seem convinced, but he leaves the subject alone, gesturing for Patton to walk ahead of him once more, “Stay close enough to warn his Highness should it come to that,” Logan says and Patton nods, taking the lead.

Once Logan a good foot or two away, Virgil sucks in a breath, close to Patton’s ear.

“This was a bad idea,” he whispers voice so soft Patton feels it more than he hears, ”You should have let me trounce Glasses back when he threatened you with a death penalty,” he murmurs, and Patton shakes his head minutely.

“Kiddo-” Patton soothes on reflex, the same calming tone he uses with children frightened by his magic and with cornered animals he means to free from traps, “Virgil, I know you’re not happy-”

“Oh, was it obvious?” Virgil cuts in, and now it’s Patton’s turn to roll his eyes (but he smiles when he does it).

“Well, you did _demon_ strate some symptoms,” the healer flashes a guilty smile - and Virgil’s lip twitches upwards, faintly, before plummeting down and groaning.

“Look, Ma-”

“Patton’s fine, Kiddo.”

“...Patton,” Virgil corrects, “Could you...stop acting so normal for a second?” he asks, catching the shorter a bit off guard. Biting his lip, Patton cocks his head, and Virgil palms his face infrustration, an action he keeps subdued to make sure Logan doesn't make out too much of what they’re discussing by body language alone, “We’re prisoners...can you stop acting like this is a pleasure trip?”

“Virgil,” Patton whispers back, “This isn’t quite a cell.”

“Oh, you’re right. Then let’s go back to the cabin,” Virgil responds, only half kidding, and Patton shakes his head.

“You know we can’t do that…”

“Because we’re prisoners,” Virgil supplies, “Which is terrible enough on its own, but - our captor is the Prince, one of the highest authority figures in this place...and he’s absolutely insane,” Virgil reasons.

“Ooh,” the healer breathes, “This is about his um...plan.”

“No, it’s about his fashion sense - _yes,_ it’s about the Witch, Patton! He’s _excited_ the woods are cursed!” Virgil hisses, and the healers shoots him a worried glance, as if willing Virgil to keep his voice

down.

Regardless, Patton nods slowly, looking off to the side, “It is a bit, ah,” he stalls, picking his words as carefully as he would the poisonous foliage surely in the wood, “...It’s ambitious” he grants, “but

Prince Roman seems very confident, and he walks around with a _sword_.”

“ _So?!_ You walk around with a demon!”

 

Patton grins softly, “I know, and I love him!”

Virgil runs his hands down his face, and Patton can see the faint glow of Virgil’s magic running through his fingers...Still not a good time to joke then, he figures, deciding to explain his reasoning instead of letting Logan catch sight and start a fuss, “...I know this isn’t what you wanted. It’s not even what _I_ wanted, Virgil…But I think this might be the _right_ thing.”

Virgil glances up at him, a wary flash in his eyes before he looks to the side at the passing trees, “You always say that before doing something stupid,” he grumbles.

“Well, that’s what I said when I healed you,” Patton offers, and Virgil nods - albeit slowly.

“Like I said. Right before you do something stupid.”

“Enough of that!” Patton demands softly, “Besides, Roman does make a point. Virgil, if we slay the Witch, everyone wins - the Kingdom is safe, for one...and, well, Roman said that because I would have helped, magic would be easier unban…” the healer trails, “I would be able to practice and help people all around, Virgil - and you’d be able to be out with me! If I could do that...I might get better at magic! Eventually I could - I could free you, Virgil! No more Claims, no more having to obey me-”  
Something flashes in Virgil’s eyes, but Patton can’t place the emotion before his head shakes, “Or, the more likely alternative: we get incinerated on the spot.”

“Virgil-”

“No, Patton - listen to me, okay? She was _my Magister_ , Patton. She was my -” Virgil breathes out heavy through his nose before shaking his head and continuing, “I wasn’t her only demon. You can’t summon _one_ , and she’s got _dozens_. Some even more powerful than me, Patton. And _she’s_ stronger than any of them,” a spark of fear enters his Summon’s eyes, and the healer wants to rub it out. He can’t think of anything to say, however, when Virgil continues.

“She’ll kill you. She wouldn’t even blink - she-’d- _she’d-_ ”

“Virgil-”

“Gods, she’d burn you, I’d smell you-you- _your flesh-_ ” he’s still talking low, but his voice has started to staccato.

“Virgil!” Patton says sharply, a hand sneaking away from the reigns to rest on the Summo’s knee, forcing him to make eye-contact. Frantic purple eyes land on his and Patton gives another gentle squeeze, “Don’t do that. Stay with me, alright?”

Virgil looks like he wants to push him away for a moment, but Patton holds firm until the fear fades - when it does, the demon jerks to sit up straight, far more gently than he probably wants to wrench away.

“...Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Aw, Kiddo - I’m sorry. I hate making you do things you don’t want to...I just don’t see another option. It’s this or...I think we’re both safer this way.”

“Safer,” Virgil scoffs, a disbelieving chuckle haunting the edges of the word, “The safest option is the Suicidal Prince and the Dragon Witch. What a winning combination.”

Before Patton can respond, Logan’s voice erupts through the air, for the first time yielding something that can be described as emotional.

“Highness!” Logan exclaims, and Patton feels a rush of wind as Logan’s horse blurs gray, bolting past them.

Virgil lets loose a curse Patton would have admonished him for, if his eyes hadn’t followed Logan’s line of charge - and landed square on Roman.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so like. This was kinda spur of the moment so updates will probably occur every week or every other week depending on what free time allows...but I do have a plot in mind.
> 
> As for the magic, it's Latin.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading~ Have a good one!


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